How to Heal a Broken Heart
by Neverendingimagination
Summary: A/U Medical romance/drama/comedy. After playing the good Samaritan Dr Jack O'Neill's life is changed forever. 14 years later Dr Sam Carter joins the surgical team and sparks are set to fly. Will he break past her protective barriers to uncover her deepest secret?


This is the first chapter of a story written especially for Shippers day on Gateworld. It is inspired by the romcoms of the 80's and 90's, and the medical shows I grew up with. It's completely A/U but will include all the SG1 characters in some form or another.

This story is rated 'T' but please be aware that there is some strong language in this chapter. I deemed it appropriate in the context.

.

* * *

.

**How to Heal a Broken Heart**

.

_**Chapter 1 - Of All the Gin Joints...**_

"Sonofabitch!" Jack cursed. His feet slipped out from under him on the icy road and landed him ass first on the slick surface. He rubbed his buttocks and groaned, damn that was going to bruise. Using extreme care, he slowly pushed himself up. As he straightened his legs his feet began to slip and slide around – he looked like he was doing a bad impression of Bambi learning to walk on ice. He balanced himself with bent knees and his hands out wide at his sides. Slowly he straightened his legs and took a careful step forwards. His foot seemed solid enough so he lifted the other one – and very nearly ended up doing the splits when his legs separated. He threw his hands down just in time and carefully brought his feet back together.

Cursing some more he plumped for the ever-growing snowdrift and, finding the least compressed route, stomped along nearly 2 feet deep in snow. The wind howled and turned the snow from a blinding curtain, to a mass of icy bullets. He pulled his hat lower and his scarf higher around his neck in an effort to keep warm. The wet ski gloves only served to make his hands colder and his nose was so cold he could barely feel it. The worst thing were his pants, they were soaked and quickly freezing to his ass and legs – why had he decided to walk the rest of the way back to his cabin?

He put his head down and continued to plough his way through the snowdrifts accumulating at the side of the lane. A shadowy object loomed in the distance catching his attention. It was sitting at an angle to one side of the lane, facing the bushes. As he got closer, he realized it was a car. His medical training kicked in and he immediately went into doctor mode.

He hurried through the snow and carefully approached the car - thankfully, it didn't seem damaged. He rubbed the snow away from the driver side window and peered inside.

A young woman was huddled in her coat and blankets. Her pale face was tearstained and contorted with fear. She had a woolen hat pulled over her hair and a scarf around her neck. Her skin was pale and smooth and her lips were a light pink. She didn't look much over 20.

"Are you hurt?" he called through the glass.

She looked up at him wide eyed and shifted away from the door. He tried to open it but found it was locked.

He fumbled in his pocket for his hospital ID and pushed it against the glass.

"It's okay, I'm a doctor, I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Jack O'Neill, I'm a surgical resident at County."

She looked at the ID tag and up at his face. She pressed her lips tightly together and watched him.

"Are you okay?"

She seemed to hesitate before nodding slightly. She suddenly leaned forwards and grimaced, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her hands dropped and clutched her stomach through the blankets. They slipped and revealed a large but neat bump behind her coat.

"How long have you been having contractions?"

She looked up from her position and stared at him. He was beginning to wonder if she spoke English.

"Three, four hours maybe." Her voice was muffled but the accent clearly American.

"Okay, how many weeks are you?"

"34." She breathed deeply and out slowly.

"We need to get you somewhere safe."

She nodded and continued her slow breathing.

"Hospital?" She asked.

"It's about two hours away."

"Argh! Oh god, I think my waters just broke." She stared down at her lap.

He followed her gaze and saw the dark stain spreading across her leggings.

"Shit. I'm not risking the trip to the hospital now, especially in this weather. There's a clinic a couple a miles that way." He pointed back the way he had come. "I know the doc in charge, I volunteer there. If you let me in I can try and get your car out and drive you there."

She looked down at her stomach and then at him, her eyes darted over him as if she were trying to penetrate his soul. Her eyelids were slightly drooped and her mouth pursed tightly, her chin dimpled in fear.

"I promise you I won't hurt you. I just want to help."

She studied him for a few moments before slowly reaching out and flicking the locking mechanism.

He opened the door and she shuffled awkwardly into the passenger seat. He put on his belt and started to maneuver the car.

"How far apart are they?"

"Argh." Before she could answer she grabbed her stomach and the door handle, her knuckles were turning white. He glanced at his watch and waited until she released her death grip on the door.

"That answers that question, what six minutes? That lasted about 30 seconds so," he looked over at her scared face. "We need to get moving." She nodded, breathing out loudly and slowly. "That's it, slow breathing, try and stay as relaxed as possible." She narrowed her eyebrows at him and cocked her head to the side, "I know, scariest thing that could ever happen to you and some idiot doc says relax."

She gave him a small smile.

"Not so hard was it?" He gave her a crooked grin back. Best to keep things light and as calm as possible.

It took him several attempts at shuffling the car backwards and forwards before he started to get clear of the drift.

"You sure know how to get yourself in a mess don't ya?"

"I let go of the wheel during a contraction, slammed on the breaks and the wheels locked. Stupid, I know."

"I forgive ya. Hey, full sentences, we're making progress. You might even tell me your name soon."

He turned the wheel one last time and got the car successfully back on the road.

"Ah ha! Who's the daddy!" He gulped and looked over at her, she had turned away from him. "Sorry, I got a big mouth, gets me in a hell of a lot a trouble."

She nodded. "It's okay." Her voice was quite, almost a whisper.

She didn't speak again. The quite always made him nervous, he had always felt the need to crack jokes or say something stupid to fill the silence.

"So, um, where ya been staying? Not seen you round these parts before."

"Cabin back down that road."

"Douglas's place? I heard he was renting these days, too cold for him out here now. Shame, he loves his fishing, used to take me as a kid."

She looked back at him, "Really?"

"Yeah, he knew my Grandpa. They'd sit for hours with their fishing rod and bait, fresh air, trees, peace and quite. They were great times."

She smiled at him, he could see her in the rear-view mirror and the corner of his eye. She was deep in thought and stroking her stomach in circular motions. Their peaceful interlude was shattered by her groan and gasp.

"They're getting stronger?"

She nodded breathing out hard and clutching her stomach again.

"It's not far now, ten minutes tops." He silently prayed that the doc would still be there, he had a set of keys but he didn't want to have to do this alone. He was an Orthpod not a Gynaecologist for crying out loud.

He'd hated every minute of his maternity rotation – well, he hated the pregnant women screaming and shouting, so that was pretty much all of it. Watching the skeletal development of a foetus, through ultrasounds taken at various stages of gestation, however, was very interesting. He'd been in a lot of trouble with his attending when he got excited at a newborn with spinabifida.

The woman groaned again just as he pulled into the small parking lot. The lights were off and the place was deserted. Great, just great, alone with a pregnant woman, in hard labour – he could just picture the look on Charlie's face when he found out. He'd never hear the end of it.

Jack jumped out of the car and hurried to the passenger door. He helped the young woman out and grabbed her purse before helping her to the front door. He unlocked the clinic, and sat her on one of the chairs in the waiting room. He grabbed the phone and dialed his attending. The guy also happened to run the clinic and had roped Jack into doing a couple of days a week as part of his training.

The phone rang and rang.

"Oh come on Frank, answer the damn phone!"

He slammed it back on the receiver and went round thumping all the light switches into action. The yellow fluorescent lights flickered on and revealed the plain white room. Mismatched Formica chairs set in straight lines in front of the reception desk and several doors led to restrooms, a small kitchen and two examination rooms. Jack headed straight for one of two doors on the far side of the room.

He propped open the door and started preparing the examination room. They didn't have much in the way of maternity supplies so he put together his own basic kit; gloves, scissors, couple of clamps, some pain meds, towels, and - he hoped he wouldn't have to use them - scalpel and suture kit.

The woman groaned again from the waiting room and shouted out.

"Oh god, it's getting worse."

He rushed back into the waiting room and found her leaning against the wall, bent forwards and clutching her stomach. She had removed her outer clothing and was wearing navy leggings and a baggy jumper.

She lifted her head and met his gaze. Her large blue eyes were swimming with tears and her short blonde hair was ruffled and messy. She smoothed down her hair and smiled slightly. He simply stared at her; she was beautiful.

"Let's get you somewhere more comfortable."

Jack took her into the other room and helped her sit down on the examination table.

"So, you gonna tell me your name?" He carefully placed his index and middle finger on her wrist to check her heart rate. "After all, we're about to get real up close and personal."

She smiled slightly, "Sa, er Sandy." She swallowed and watched him with wide eyes for a few moments.

Okay, so she didn't want to tell him her real name. He could live with that for now, his first priority was to safely deliver her child, and then, he could focus on her real identity and finding her appropriate support.

"Right, Sandy, I've been keeping an eye on your contractions and they're getting pretty close, every three or four minutes. I'm gonna need to check baby's position and how dilated you are."

She nodded and slowly started to unbutton her pants. He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves and waited for her to lie back on the bed. She pulled her baggy sweater up to reveal her bump. He carefully ran his hands around it putting pressure in the manner he had been taught, and found the lumps and bumps of the head and limbs.

"Good, baby is head down. Now for the unpleasant part."

She pulled her pants and underwear down and slipped them off their feet. She looked up at the ceiling and spread her legs.

"Knees up, get your feet as far back as you can, that's it, ankles against your hips and then tip your knees out."

He performed the internal exam as quickly and gently as he could. She winced and jerked as he fingers touched her, he imagined now incredibly sensitive, genitalia. She squeezed her eyes shut as he continued the exam.

"Argh, it hurts. It really hurts. I've never felt anything like it."

He removed his hand and gently closed her legs before pulling a blanket over her.

"That's what all the girls say."

She glared at him.

"It was a joke."

"Well it's not funny! I'm in agony here and you're cracking stupid jokes."

"I know, my big mouth again."

She continued to glare at him, her arms were folded and she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"You're er, you're six centimetres dilated."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope."

"Argh!" She cursed and rolled onto her side, bringing her knees up to her bump.

He took her hand in his and she squeezed him tightly until the contraction subsided.

He let go and stepped towards the door.

"I gotta go, I won't be long."

"Jack, don't leave me." Her voice was little more than a whimper, it shook and broke, he could see the tears in her eyes. A single tear tracked down her cheek and landed on her lips. Without thinking he reached out to her and cupped her face in his hand, he gently stroked his thumb across her cheek, catching another tear.

"I have to try and call my boss, I'll be just outside this room. I won't leave you."

Jack dialed Cromwell again. It rang for a few moments before a woman answered.

"Cromwell residence."

"Mrs Cromwell, this is Jack O'Neill, I'm one of your husband's residents, is he available?"

"He had to go to county, big RTC on the highway."

"Damn. Okay. Thanks anyway."

He put the phone down and dialed another number. Please let Charlie pick up.

He leaned backwards and watched Sandy steadily pace up and down the room, her hand against her back.

"Come on Charlie, pick up, pick up, come on, pick up!" he chanted quietly.

The ringing stopped and a click signified that someone had picked up.

"Yeah?"

"Kawalski. Get up! I need your help."

"That you Jack?"

"Yeah, now get your butt down to the clinic."

"I'm kinda busy ya know?"

Giggling drifted down the phone.

"Put your shorts back on and get down here."

"What's the big emergency?"

"I got a girl in the clinic."

"Oh you old dog."

"She's pregnant."

"You knocked someone up you charmer. Hic."

"She's in labour!"

"Oh, bummer."

"Are you drunk?"

"I only had like 5, 6 maybe, oh then there was the shots and-"

"Forget it, I'll sort it myself. And hey, sober up, you're on call tomorrow."

"Yes Sir!"

Jack slammed the phone down as Sandy started shouting again.

He sighed and headed for the small kitchen. A kettle and small radio sat on the counter top. He opened the fridge and picked up a bottle of milk. He sniffed it and screwed up his nose as he jerked his head back.

"Jeez! Does no one bin anything round here?"

He dumped it in the bin and pulled a carton of orange juice out, he sniffed it and tipped his head to the side, it smelled okay. Digging around in the cupboard he found half a packet of cookies and pulled them out. He found a glass, grabbed the radio and took his booty to his patient.

"Honey I'm home!"

Sandy glared at him before groaning and turning to grip the edge of the bed tightly. He put the juice and cookies down, and set the radio on a chair beside the bed.

"Little music; thought it might relax you."

He turned it on and twisted the knob, loud rock music blasted from the speaker.

"Oh yeah, real relaxing!" Sandy snarled. Her face flushed red and her knuckles paled as she gripped the bed.

Jack jumped and quickly changed the frequency.

"Bad example."

Sandy rolled her eyes and took a few deep breaths, blowing out slowly.

Jack looked up grinning; the soothing sounds of Bach filled the air.

"Better m'lady?"

Sandy's mouth twitched as though she were holding back a smile, before it broke through and lit up her face. "Much. Thank you."

Jack found himself staring at her wide blue eyes, rosy cheeks and beaming smile. She was gorgeous. She stared back at him, her gaze burning through him. He knew he was entering dangerous territory as his stomach performed a back flip; she was his patient. He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from her. He scratched the back of his neck and looked over at the curtains.

"I er, I'm gonna see if I can find something to use as a crib."

She nodded, her eyes losing their sparkle.

"Shout if you need me."

"I will Jack."

He shivered as she said his name, it was as though it had been chosen especially for her to say. It slipped off her tongue like silk. Goosebumps trailed down his back and arms; he could feel the hairs standing on end. Boy was he gonna need a cold shower.

Jack looked down at his watch, 27 seconds, 28 seconds, 29 seconds , he braced himself as Sandy screamed.

"Sandy, I'm gonna check how far dilated you are."

"I don't care, just get it out! Please get it out of me!"

"Soon Sandy, real soon."

He pulled on gloves and gently began his examination. He looked up at the pale, sweaty, terrified, young face.

"I think you're ready."

Sandy's eyes widened and her mouth opened in horror. She shook her head and turned white as a sheet.

"No, I can't, I can't do this. I'm not ready."

"Trust me, you are, and you're gonna be fine."

"I'm so scared."

"I know, but I'm gonna be right here okay."

She nodded and suddenly shifted to the edge of the bed.

"Hey, hey where you going?"

"I gotta use the bathroom."

"You can't move."

"But I have to go, really bad."

As she shifted, he noticed she was curling her toes up tightly. Turns out he remembered something useful from that rotation. Jack gritted his teeth and looked up at the ceiling. He really did not want to ask this of such a beautiful woman. He got the sentence out as quickly as possible.

"Do-you-feel-like-you-gotta-have-a-bowel-movement? "

"What? Argh!"

"They say it feels like you gotta take a dump, it feel like that?"

Sandy nodded, grunting.

"Time to start pushing, Sandy."

She shook her head and rolled back onto the bed.

"Sandy, you ain't got much choice in the matter. You have to start pushing."

She nodded and shifted her position on the bed; she rolled herself forwards and pushed herself up on her hands and knees.

"Okay." He shook his head at the bizarre position but didn't say a word. Maternity ward rule number 1; never argue with a woman in labour. "Ready?"

She nodded and groaned.

"Okay, Sandy, push."

Jack checked his watch for what felt like the millionth time that night. Sandy had been pushing now for over an hour.

"That's it, keep going, keep going."

Sandy screamed, her hair was plastered to her face and her knuckles were completely white from gripping the metal rail so tightly.

Jack checked her again and was relieved to see the reddish pink skin covering the baby's head.

"I can see the head. I need you to stop pushing, breathe through the next couple of contractions."

"I can't, I have to push."

"You gotta give your body chance to stretch, I don't wanna have to stitch you up if I can help it. That'd lay you up too much, don't need that being on your own with a newborn."

"My god, it burns, it burns so much."

"I know. I know it does, deep breaths."

"You don't know, how can you know, you're a guy, you fucking moron! Get away from me, I don't want you touching me!"

Jack jumped back and held his hands up in front of him.

"Okay, okay, that was a stupid thing to stay, but you gotta let me help you."

"Women have been having babies for thousands of years, none of _them_ needed your help!"

"Sandy, calm down, you have to keep your blood pressure down, it's not good for the baby."

"I don't give a flying crap! I just want this goddamn baby out of me. Argh!"

"I'm trying to help you achieve that goal."

"Then let me fucking push!"

"I'm gonna kill the bastard!"

"After you've finished pushing."

"I can't push anymore."

"Yes you can. Just one more push, you can do it."

Sandy grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly as she pushed, both of them screamed. Jack thought she was going to break his hand; she was crushing it so tightly in her death grip.

He let go and caught the slippery reddish-pink bundle in a clean towel. He gently rubbed the vernix from its skin and put his finger in its mouth to clear it of fluid. The newborn coughed slightly and whimpered. He smiled down at the beautiful little scrunched up face and lost himself for a moment.

"What is it?"

Sandy rocked back onto her haunches and flopped onto her back.

"Why isn't she crying?"

"Not all babies cry, she's breathing just fine."

"She?"

"Yeah. It's a girl." He smiled at her before he loosely wrapped the infant up in the towel, and laid her on Sandy's stomach. He took his clips and scissors and cut the chord.

He picked up the wriggling baby and, after wrapping her up more securely, placed her in Sandy's arms. He watched as she gazed down at her adoringly. She rocked the baby gently and reached out a finger to stroke the pink cheeks. The infant hushed, and when Sandy placed her finger in the tiny hand, she grabbed it tightly.

"Hello." Sandy whispered.

"She's beautiful."

"I know." Sandy looked up at him; her face was alight with happiness. Her eyes sparkled as she beamed at him. "She's perfect." If he had thought she looked beautiful before, now, she was nothing less than stunning. She was positively glowing.

After the placenta had been delivered and sealed in a plastic bag, Jack let Sandy get some rest. He tidied and cleaned up the soiled towels and blankets and put them in the laundry bin. It wouldn't be long before the little lady wanted feeding and he hadn't a clue how to help Sandy.

A few minutes after he returned to her room, the infant started to cry and nuzzled against Sandy's tee.

"I think she's hungry."

"What, what do I do?"

"You're asking me?"

"You're the doctor."

"I'm not a lactation specialist. Don't you just, you know, hold the baby and offer it your, you know."

"It's called a nipple, and if you're squeamish about naming female anatomy, perhaps you're not mature enough to be a resident."

She carefully lifted her tee a few inches and stared at him.

"Now you're getting modest? You just said it, I'm a doctor, and you haven't got nothing I ain't seen before."

She glared at him before she lifted her tee again and exposed her left breast. She tucked the tee under her chin and shifted the baby to the side. Balancing the baby, she tried to grasp her breast but the baby shifted, and so she reached down to pull her closer.

"You want a hand?"

She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.

"I mean supporting her, until you get her to latch on."

"I guess."

He carefully supported her arm as she offered her breast to the baby. The small mouth opened and after a few attempts closed around the nipple and began to suck hungrily.

Sandy hissed and jerked, her body tensing suddenly.

"You okay?"

She nodded, looking down at her daughter with apprehension, hissing again.

"It feels weird, and its kinda sore."

"I've heard it takes some getting used to but it's worth it, for mum and for baby."

Sandy nodded and looked away; she wouldn't meet his gaze.

Something wasn't right, he didn't know what but something was definitely wrong. He settled down in the chair and pushed the makeshift crib closer to the bed. He watched her talking to her daughter for a few minutes, her tone was soft and warm but there was hesitance in her voice. Whatever the problem was, he vowed to get to the bottom of it in the morning, after he had got her to the hospital.

He relaxed when she placed the child in the crib and lay down.

"Get some sleep."

"And you." She rolled over to face away from him. He closed his eyes and shifted around in his chair trying to get comfortable.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you, I don't know what I'd done if…"

"It was my pleasure Sandy."

Sandy stared down at her tiny daughter sleeping in her arms. Her name wasn't really Sandy, it was the first thing she could think of. Hiding her identity was the only way to protect her daughter. The ache in her chest was growing every second. She was so perfect, small pink lips, red skin, ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. Her eyes were large and bright blue, there was no telling what colour they would be when she was older. A mop of soft fine brown hair covered her head. She twitched and flexed her fingers as she slept.

Sandy had never loved anything so much. The pain of what she was about to do would dwarf that of childbirth. She carefully laid the newborn in the makeshift crib and sneaked over to Jack snoring in the chair. He looked so peaceful, all tension gone from his face. She reached out and gently touched his ruffled hair.

As soon as she saw his crooked smile as he gazed down at her daughter, the tender movement as he placed her in her arms, the way his deep brown eyes lit up and shone at her, she knew. She had done the one thing she had promised herself she wouldn't do. She had fallen for him, it was stupid, she'd only met the guy ten hours ago, but she couldn't help it. He was everything she'd dreamed off, and everything she couldn't have. He had gone out of his way to help her. She knew she could trust him, leave him to care for the most important thing in her life; her daughter.

She found paper and pens at the reception desk and began to write, tears soaked her face and dropped onto the paper beneath. The ink smudged and bled across the white paper. She put down the pen and folded up the paper. She slipped it in an envelope and labeled it 'Dr Jack O'Neill'.

She glanced back at the examination room and looked longingly at the blankets covering her daughter. She had decided to call her Cassandra after the constellation Cassiopeia. The Greek story says that Cassiopeia was forced to endure great torment as punishment for sacrificing her daughter. It seemed apt in her mind. She was about to begin her own journey of torment.

She had never expected it to be this hard. She knew she had to do this, she couldn't keep her; she had no permanent home, no regular job and no way of getting either. Worst of all, she couldn't ask the father for help, she had led him to believe she had had a miscarriage, it was the only way to get away from him. She wanted her child as far away from that monster as possible. That meant putting her pain and her grief last.

She stifled a sob and picked up her purse. She ran from the clinic and jumped in her car. She cursed under her breath, the pain shooting through her groin. She turned on the engine and drove quickly away. She could barely see through the tears streaming down on her face. She hurt so much she didn't think it would ever go away. It was tearing her in two. She loved her daughter so much and wanted nothing more than to go back and hold her in her arms and just be her mother. She couldn't, and it broke her heart.

.

_._

_14 Years Later_

Samantha Carter M.D. strode purposefully across the highly polished floor, her heels clicked with every step and blonde fringe bounced wildly. Her hair was pinned up in an elegant French twist and stylish retro glasses sat on her nose. A retro fitted shift dress, in black white and red, accentuated her curves and exposed her greatest assets, her long slender legs. She looked up from the map she was holding and pushed her glasses onto the top of her head. She knocked twice on the boardroom door before entering.

George Hammond M.D, Chief of Staff, looked up from the head of the table and smiled. She knew him well, he was an old friend of her fathers, but both had agreed to keep that fact to themselves. She didn't fancy being accused of nepotism on her first day.

"Doctor Carter, glad you could make it." Hammond turned to the rest of the tables' occupants as she quietly took her seat. "Everyone, this is Dr Samantha Carter, she's joining our cardiac surgical department from today."

Everyone nodded and smiled. A Latino woman with shoulder-length auburn hair sat beside a tall woman with dark curly hair. They both nodded to her and said hello. A balding man with glasses grinned, and a grey haired man with a furrowed brow pushed his glasses up his nose.

The man next to her shook her hand. He had a warm smile, blue eyes and round-rimmed glasses. She forced back a thought that he looked like Harry Potter and swallowed her giggle.

"Nice to meet you Samantha, Daniel Jackson, Hospital Attorney, for my sins."

"Nice to meet you Daniel and its Sam."

A petite woman with brown eyes and hair smiled at her. "Janet Fraiser, Chief of Surgery."

The door banged open and a tall grey-haired man in scrubs walked in and dropped noisily into one of the chairs. He pulled a yoyo from his pocked and started playing with it.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone. Don't worry Jack we know medicine can't always run to a schedule." Daniel jested.

"Some idiot in the ER demanded to see a consultant for a sprained ankle. Seriously, I wish Mitchell would just tell 'em to get lost and stop wasting my time."

"Jack, I know it's frustrating but we all have pull together." George said.

Jack looked up and stared at her. His brown eyes met hers and widened for the briefest of moments. She desperately tried to hide her sudden terror at seeing him and kept her face as still as possible.

He studied her intently, raised an eyebrow almost imperceptibly, narrowed his eyes, and leaned forwards.

"New here?"

"Samantha Carter, Cardiac surgeon. Nice to meet you, Dr?"

"O'Neill."

"You always worn glasses?"

"No, it's a recent thing."

"Hmm. Have we met before?"

"Only in another life, honey."

"Nobody likes a smart ass."

"Nobody likes a grown man that acts like a whiny kid."

"Way to go Jack, this must be a new record. It took you all of, ooh, 30 seconds." Daniel said.

"Bite me." Jack replied.

"Jack."

"Daniel."

"Hey! Can we get with the programme here? Some of us have important procedures lined up." A whining voice piped up, it took her a moment to place the accent - Canadian. Sam turned to find its occupant was a man around her age with a dark receding hairline and blue eyes.

"As opposed to me? What my procedures not important?" Jack said.

"You're a glorified carpenter."

"When you break your neck, it's me you'll want screwing you together."

"Was that a threat?"

"You take it how you wanna, punk."

"Punk? What, are we still in high school?" Sam blurted before stopping herself.

"Keep outta this Blondie."

"Jack!" Hammond warned.

A loud bleeping had everyone scrambling around for his or her pagers. Jack pulled his out with a grin.

"Ah, saved by the bell, wonder what Mitchell's got for me this time." He stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Daniel sighed and grimaced. "Jack's an acquired taste."

Sam nodded and stared at the door. She bit her lip and tried to stop her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know who he was anymore; his eyes were cold, dead. The kind-hearted, good-humored man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. He had been replaced by a sour, bad tempered, jackass. What the hell had happened to change him so much?


End file.
